


[HUMANSTUCK] The Joy of Lusushood

by Ramona3x3



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Childhood Sweethearts, Elementary School, Gen, Humanstuck, Parenthood, School
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3526814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramona3x3/pseuds/Ramona3x3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve Lusii, twelve kids. A chapter for each, arranged in hemospectrum order starting with Karkat. A work in progress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Passionate

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking three or four ages to set them all to at some point. First three or four (one and a half to two sweeps for troll age guesstimation) years, then kindergarten (perhaps just at two and a half sweeps or a little more), at some point between 7-9 (three or four sweeps), and then at age ten (five, most likely).
> 
> PLEASE, do not slam me for being non-canon in the reviews. Slam the plot, slam the portrayal, but do not slam non-canon. I'm not up-to-date, either, I'm just deeply perturbed by "inspiration". Helpful suggestions are very welcome, even less helpful ones. Just not the flaming the fandom is famous for: I don't wish that on anyone.  
> *I'm still wary of our fandom, even though I now consider myself a part of it by writing this.*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clear up a few things...  
> -The parents are NOT the ancestors, nor the dancestors. They are my humanstuck representation of the lusii.  
> -Dancestors will be involved, but not always as a direct sibling.  
> -If a certain event, quality, or dancestor was not mentioned, chill. I am writing this to not belong in an order, although I am publishing them in hemospectum order.  
> -Got headcanons? Spill 'em, and they might show up, or inspire other things.  
> -A trolls' friend(s) will be most commonly seen/described in their chapter, and vice versa.  
> -They all live in the same school district of a town/city/whatever it is at this point.  
> -The different sections for each troll will not be the same ages. Some may begin as early as two and a fraction years old (one sweep), or as late as the first day of kindergarten. This being said, the only commonly shared parallel is of that first day, and a definite ending section when they are about ten (five sweeps).  
> -There will be four random OOC trolls popping in and out (the 16 was not a typo) VERY briefly, because twelve is a very small classroom for a public school. Talk to me if you'd like to see yours out there.  
> -Any other particularly important questions may be brought up to me in the comments, some sort of DM that I am presently unaware of on this lovely site that I haven't gotten to exploring, or through the inbox on my Wattpad account (used for some Deathnote fics that you should feel free to check out) with the same username as mine on here.
> 
> Now that that's all out of the way, read on!

Armed with nothing but a cellphone and his open palm, a man faced an actively tantruming toddler.

"Karkat."

In the tempest of the storm, tears streaming down the small thing's reddened cheeks, Akuben kneeled and prepared to attempt to reason before he found himself in a similar mental dialogue as the little tyke in front of him.

"Karkat."

Uttering something unintelligible, as one would expect from a boy with tiny teeth that were still holding onto his apple snack from earlier, Karkat swiped his hands around in utter irritation at the voice taking a pleased, soothing tone.

"Karkat, we're out of kraft. We can't have it for dinner."

Taking up the end of his tee shirt in his bony hand, the tall man wiped Karkat's tears and smiled, making a mental note to buy more of the gooey "macaroni". Resting on his laurels, he saw his efforts were not in vain. Karkat began to mumble lightly, and agreed to the chicken nuggets offered. Maybe parenthood would pay off.

♋♋♋

Or, maybe not.

The mite on a stack of textbooks was actively refusing to eat the green peas now- which his father swore he liked last time they were served- that lolled drowsily in the thin, pale puddle of their juices that mingled with a haphazard shore of chicken nugget crumbs. The wallpaper also took part in the mocking; it's multicolored fruits laughing joyously over the small shoulders that defied nutritional suggestions. The child's face contorted and he took a breath in to let out another pained noise, but was interrupted with the harsh thump of a glass being put down and his father hunching up on the table.

"Karkat, you're going to eat every pea on that plate, mister."

The face flushing yet again before him opened, expelling a torrent of high-pitched outcry and tempting the adult in the room to return the tidal wave twofold in bellows and swears, but he held himself higher than the toddler.

Tantrums were normal for small children, he wasn't an idiot. However, his daycare instructors had affirmed that Karkat tended to have quite a few more than the average kid, which may or may not be cause for alarm. Some children are just the kind to pitch a fit, and Karkat would be among their elite ranks. Armed with relentless objections and decibel shattering screeches, he would be a very capable Bard of Early Male-Pattern Baldness.

"Karkat."

The screeching continued, and Akuben raked a hand through his rich brown hair, convinced that this would be the death of him. Stroke brought on by the resonating screams of a distressed child. He could feel the pressure building up already and thought absently of his ever-present rendezvous with a bottle of Advil.

"Karkat!"

And then the crying bringing forth the fork angrily stabbing away at the sad pile of peas and his descention from his chair also pushing back a few books and they slammed their bodies of "knowledge" onto the linoleum with a scattering thump. The run on sentence failed to capture the rising anger in the small kitchen, and the guardian getting up and taking a small arm flung downward in the dawn of physical throes.

"Time out. Now."

More disagreement in the form of thrashing and gnashing of teeth was met by being taken against the boy's juvenile weight, and he was turned into a corner of the wall with a happy face proudly displayed on it's frame of HP paper and scotch tape fixturing. Eventually, he was forced into it and tearfully stood for three minutes.

At the end of the timer, the man walked back over and led Karkat away from it, into the archway back to the kitchen.

"You were very good in the corner, do you know why you were put there?"

"...not eating peas..."

Karkat still held obvious disdain for the peas in question, but his father did know that he was remorseful of his tantrum, which can and does happen sometimes. It was refreshing: He wasn't doing it to spite you, he was just a kid that had a lot of tantrums. He was a good kid, really.

"Yes. Karkat, what do you say?"

"I'm sorry."

Sending a hand up to the small head of dark titian hair, the adult began to smooth the waves and cowlicks as he began to smile.

"Can I have a hug?"

Taking the boy into his arms, he felt the tyke breathing steadily, and felt a warmth of joy. Being a father was tough, but he enjoyed it. He and the young one were alike: he had to overcome his irritation to be the calm example. It wasn't perfect, but it was what it was.

Perfectly satisfactory.

♋♋♋

The first day of kindergarten (a Friday, so that the kiddies could see what school was for the first time with their parents before the first day of instruction) was met with a red polo shirt and a pair of black pants (perhaps denim, but not as constricting) found at a local consignment shop. Karkat followed politely behind across the space murals, reading/health/activity/self-esteem promoting posters, and second grade reading level quotes hung in an array of tapes. Even a fifth grader's Hello Kitty duct tape plastered "YOU CAN DO iT" onto the Andromeda galaxy. Leading the child through the halls, the man's hand began to sweat with uncertainty over Karkat's school experience. He... He was special. Of course, everyone probably thought that, but Karkat was still important. Finally finding the room, he gave the small hand a squeeze before opening the door to a room of casually socializing little kids and awkwardly chatting parents. Was that... Charly Makara? He was kneeling in front of a boy with dark, confusedly textured, hair and who looked like the spitting image of the date Makara had brought to the fifth high school reunion. She was thin as a rail and tweaking, with eyes that clung to faces and noise like starving children cling to life itself. Her name was something like... Dabihe?

Good ol' Charly was fingering through a mess of dark curls belonging to what was very likely to be a walking custody case in the form of immediate resemblance to Dabihe. Nearly inexplicable... especially so given that Akuben was lucky to even remember Dabihe, it had been almost six years after that reunion. Long enough for things to change in the most obvious of ways. He led Karkat past them, Charly was an R-rated character. Akuben didn't hold high hopes for the child under those hands that were slipped up every whore's shirt in his heyday, the kid probably ended that streak. He let Karkat run off to play on the multicolored carpet with two other boys and sat back to watch with the other fathers against the wall, including Alhena Captor. Speaking of that reunion, it was the last time he'd seen his high school friend, and they even spent the two years Akuben attended college together. Alhena was in pursuit of a bachelor's degree compared to Akuben's targeted associate's degree, and stayed two more years with his studies. Just long enough to slip apart.

Even with Alhena's... eccentricities.

"Uh, hey. Alhena?"

"Vantas! Aw, man!"

It was affectionate, and the taller of the two (always Alhena) wrapped his arms up to his elbows around the smaller man, and they began to chat idly. Alhena was doing well at his job- something computers- and now lived on the east end of town in the gentle, picket fence suburbs. Not quite the planned community development paradise, but something homey.

"Hey, which one's yours?" Akuben wondered, scanning over the kids and finding Karkat still with the two other boys, bickering lightly with one of them. They played with their cars, discussing their jobs and briefly colliding them. Not inherently chaotic, compared to two little girls who were making Iron Man and Batman have a slap fight.

"Right there, playing with the dump truck."

Akuben's eyes found him to the right of Karkat, and they seemed to prefer playing with each other than the third, who began to protest. The small Captor sported dark hair combed considerably neatly, rounded glasses and a habit of biting his lower lip. The click of Chimmy Joo high heels turned both of the men's attention to a woman in blue: a blue skirted suit, to be exact, complete with pearls and a perfectly set blonde bun. Her subtle eye shadow hid behind her square framed glasses as her painted lips twitched upward into a smirk.

"Ah! Alhena, Akuben!"

Shaula Serket.

A name that seemed both to be an action and a noun, she swayed in with a smile that signified her awareness of her power. Her ego still laid undeflated by man, woman, or creature. Back in school, she was three years ahead of the aforementioned pair, and head of every committee, council, and office she would wriggle into. She graduated salutatorian, second only to an exchange student. Her defense was that "nobody can do everything", but it was heavily strained. Shaula Serket.

"Oh, Shaula! Didn't expect to see you here!" Alhena broke the silence, smiling through the vileness in the air. He had always been this peppy- this _ditzy_.

Akuben began to search over the growing hoard of children, and found no one who took his immediate eye as the spawn of Serket. He was sure, however, that her kid would be pointed out in the most abrasive way that words could be. Just to be superior. He let his mind wander, where Makara's little... boy? It was a boy?... was putting together a puzzle. Yep, bored.

"So, Vantas, who are you here with? Wait, don't tell me, you and Alhena...?"

Alhena brushed it off, trying his best to skirt away from the discomfort she brought along with the scent of Chanel No. 5. Just ritzy, but common enough to be the Shaula Serket they knew, again, from high school.

"Oh, no. Saaay, which one is yours?" "Hm? Oh, oh yes, Vriska!"

Singing out the name, the brunette who was the slap-happy Ken doll in the violent little game looked up and moved to come over to them after pushing up her wide glasses.

"No, no, you can keep playing."

The girl shrugged and obeyed, letting out a "HIY-AH!" as the plastic hand collided with a hollow breast.

"I could ask you both the same." She flipped her manicured hand around, her lips shining as her mouth stretched again into that sideways, shady smile. She expected to be shown without asking; she didn't dare to lower herself to the grovelling of a plebian.

"They're over there, with the trucks..." The third boy had left, leaving Karkat and the glasses kid discussing the speed of an ambulance versus a police car.

"Which one's which?"

Always the follow up to make one feel two inches tall.

"Sollux has the glasses..."

Alhena gestured to the boy, who was talking excitedly about thomething he had theen driving on highway thixty, thomething about a police ethscort. Shaula picked at the white edges of her fingernails and spoke.

"Oh, what a shame... especially with the cost of special education on taxpayers... I've heard there'e been a shortage of speech therapists in the area."

Slow on the uptake, but forgiving as ever, Alhena disregarded the statement with an ounce less of irritation than what would be appropriate.

"I take it the other's yours, Akuben?"

"Yes, his name's Karkat."

Using minimal false discretion, she whispered aloud,

"I wouldn't let them stay little friends, we don't want Karkat-dear to catch anything, kids are so impressionable these days- Say, is that..."

She exploded into laughter at whatever she had seen, but composed herself and scurried off before any questions could be asked.

Akuben's eyes drifted yet again to the Makara-kid, and how he had found someone to play with, a smaller boy with lightly tanned skin and kind, brown eyes. A laugh rang out, mirthful and young, the smaller's shy giggles subdividing the joyful sounds. His own son and Sollux were still playing, and Akuben was glad that things were, at the very least, _seeming_ to work out in his favor. All the kids were happy to start off, all sixteen of them had shown up. Everything was well as it was.

Only four more hours to bear, they would get out at one in the afternoon.

After one crying little girl after hearing the prospect of going to school without her mother, two spilled drinks at snacktime, and three coloring pages, it was time for recess and dismissal. Compiled to offer an opportunity for the kids to play, or to leave as their personal preference (or rather, the parent's) dictates. Shaula preferred to hurry her little girl home, and apart from her newfound dark blonde and extremely playful friend.

Karkat stayed with Sollux for the most part, the pair of them briefly merging with Makara-kid and his new friend, and also with two young girls. Overall, Karkat and the young Makara got along well, although Karkat presented him with a firm "You're annoying." At this point, Akuben and Alhena had split off after exchanging phone numbers for their future parental escapades such as birthday parties.

Charly was off somwhere else, when he should have been responding to the particular confused irritations displayed by the curly-haired kid. At least, unrulier than Karkat's, and much darker. He disregarded it, and they all played in harmony again. They seemed to enjoy each other's company well enough.

At two thirty, he and Alhena split up their boys and went their separate ways. The father- a short small man, maybe not even five feet tall- of the smaller boy came and led him calmly away as well.

"Did you have fun?"

He reached down for Karkat's hand and ran over the back of young, soft skin stretched over small bones as they walked. Looking to his left, he saw an older gentleman sporting all of his hair on his upper lip rather than his head, and walking a kid with what may be the most embarrassing boy-bob haircut to be seen in a gaudy ruddy blonde. The kid was kind of chunky, loaded in baby fat, and wearing a red tee shirt filled out by his arms laying dough-like at his sides. They entered a mustang- maybe about five years old, but still cool- and drove off responsibly.

Maybe Karkat would want a car like that someday.

Until then, he was stuck in their modest red car, in his carseat, on the way to the Dairy Queen for handling himself well at the orientation. He looked around in welcomed quiet at the world he was soon to discover- to learn why it rains, how _his_ world became so peaceful-

As they pulled into a parking spot, he saw a truck flying down the road, driven and inhabited by only Charly Makara, and squealing back in the opposite way they came. Almost as an explanation, an abandoned parking-lot beer bottle rolled lazily against Akuben's foot as he opened the passenger door.

♋♋♋

"When is this due again?"

"Monday, Dad."

"...And why didn't you mention this earlier?"

" **GOD!** Dad, just... just help me!"

It was currently Saturday afternoon, and they both sat in front of a tabletop of modeling clay, cardboard, a two liter bottle, and craft paint as well as the fruits of their kitchen at their disposal.

"So, we're making a volcano?"

"It's stupid... but Mrs. Marjor made us."

Karkat was still small, but very contrary to many facts of life, and was at the age of being ready to argue as a seasoned third grader. Akuben believed he'd grow with age, perhaps, or Karkat may begin to resemble a fuming, stereotypical leprechaun. Really, Karkat was a good kid, but became easily frustrated- he was a good kid, really.

Truth be told, it's not like Akuben hadn't been tested as well. Alhena was promoted onto another floor of online tech support while Akuben still muddled through HR as- what felt like- the company peon. A lot of lamentation, frustration, and detestation went into his career, and he found himself reflecting Karkat's familiar dissatisfaction. Headaches remained, and their house was stocked with pain medication of all walks- one may even be technically illegal in the country.

"Well, let's get down to it."

Begrudgingly at first, then with more speed and perseverance, they had a colored clay volcano with small plastic trees.

"Karkat?"

He was pushing his hair out of his eyes, and nonchalantly plucking at a plastic tree.

"What?"

"Do you think... Do you think it would ruin it to test it?"

"I don't think so, but we probably should wait."

Impressed, Akuben pulled out a bottle of diet coke from the fridge and his Mentos from the jacket still hanging in there on the coatrack from the winter.

"How responsible of you."

"Dad..."

"Tell me this much, do you _not_ want to try this out?"

"Dad?"

Karkat stood apart form the table, and gawked for a moment at the objects in his father's hand. He thought about the mess, and how this wasn't normal, but felt his boyish heart rise like it does every time Seinfeld pops onto the television. Itching at the handmade sweater at his arm, he waited for the elder's response.

"Yes?"

He stood plainly and waited. Nothing more.

"Let's go do it."

His voice betrayed an air of rancor, but he was very much the opposite. Unaware (or, unbegrudging, thought the boy), he was led out onto the porch and the bottle of Coke was opened unceremoniously. The violent, indignant hiss rang through the gentle chimes from the neighbor's hangings. The happy, blue foil was torn off of the roll of mints, and his guardian's thumb was placed just ready to drop one in.

"Karkat, ready?"

Wordlessly, they had a brief exchange before hooting at the beige foam, smiling from the edge of their noses to their ears. High fiving and laughing, being careful- but not completely- to not fall into the fizzing, dying mess crawling across the deck. In excitable jubilance, they high fived and "AL-RIGHT!"'ed enough to worry the neighbor's dog, Bucket. Her dripping houndish skin perked, then sprawled again across the grass; her wrinkles filling through barely, then returning to their immense depth and quantity. Bucket was dripping in herself, and the hyperbole lacked outlandishness. She perfectly well could have been dripping in herself to the fullest extent of the phrase- she was a walking purse, carpet, and winter coat in one. That is, if you could overcome the familiar doggy smell accompanying an ol' girl such as she.

Stupid, intoxicated smiles stayed painted onto the sober men, Bucket's owner- an old dancer named Myrtle who found her way to help every kid in the neighborhood- began to watch quietly from her favorite mauve chair. Not the green leather chair, the mauve one with the afghan.

To divert briefly from the task at hand, Myrtle had never had any kids, and with her husband long gone, she had taken her unspoken duties as a neighborhood stronghold seriously. When she wasn't bringing in the ones she knew well when they came under fire, or signing not-so-hot report cards (Ahem, Rufioh Nitram was a star offender), or just offering a snack and a fundraiser order, she was just a sweet old lady. There was only a few she wouldn't fully associate herself with, the Makaras and the Amporas.

The Amporas didn't even live in the neighborhood, but then again, neither did the Peixes. It was likely that the woman thought poorly of them, which happens, and wouldn't be too outlandish. The kid talks weird, and doesn't play well with others- playground common law dictates that weirdos will be discouraged to the fullest extent of the individual disciplinary situation.

However, the situation with the other family was left in the air

After the Vantas porch was clean and orderly, they headed back inside for dinner. Kraft macaroni and chicken tenders on plastic plates was a shared comfort of the two now.

♋♋♋

Tapping away at a keyboard, with his bust illuminated by the soft glow of an HP ProBook, Karkat pissed the time away chatting with his friend. His father, now feeling the effects of male pattern baldness began to stare at the screen before him, also. It spouted the news, and chatted about the weather as was expected of the average first world man. With coffee in one hand, the paper in the other (which was unnecessary as he watched, again, _the local news station_ ), and his tie artfully slung out of it's knot for the evening, he stared.

Both pairs of eyes, pupils contracted, watched the colors change across the screen and give the illusion of a windowpane. What windowpane would show text was uncertain, but a window. Thank you, Microsoft.

"Karkat, what could you _possibly_ be doing?"

At his naked temple, he held up his drooping head, and cursed himself for running out of Advil. Tylenol works, but only for a limited amount of time. Then again, time was always limited, but too much needs to be done in four hours. Twelve, on the other hand, was possibly a workday. It all depended on what needed to be done.

"Chatting online."

Sounding overly provoked, Karkat responded, simultaneously pressing **Enter** to send what he had typed.

"Must you, really, must you pound on that keyboard? You know I have a headache."

"I'm not, Dad. Go back to your news or whatever."

"Have you the mind to tell me who is so important as to demand this focus?"

"Sollux."

"Sollux...?"

"Captor."

Breathing a "dammit", Karkat continued to type fervishly. The cluelessness of his father was irking him again, and he turned his gaze to the ochre text offering a reasonably fast reply.

"I used to hang around with his father in High School."

The room returned to it's comfortable state- devoid of mere chatter. Karkat pushed up the charcoal sweater sleeves haunting just above his wrists, and he inquired to himself whether or not his dad would be making him another one soon.  He was finally growing, but understood the "All my clothes look like shit" struggle Equius and Gamzee were currently in. Equius didn't usually wear the same shirt twice anymore- partly because the guy was gaining weight faster than a young turkey in preparation for thanksgiving slaughter. Gamzee was just in a perpetual state of never having his ankles covered, and opting to wear cargo shorts that fell off of him if he wasn't paying attention. Equius was catching on to this trick, and his actually stayed up.

The pants still covered his ankles (mostly). Karkat found a surprising comfort in that.

His father channeled into the recent bill going through city hall, playing over thoughts on Karkat with a dull chord of "Tired." ringing through every reflection. He was growing, yes, and a new sweater had already been made. His own mother taught him how to knit on a bet with her friends, and he took it a step further. After getting flak at school, he learned not to be so proud. However, chicks dig "artisanal" knitted scarves, socks, and otherwise. It paid out to have the ability to make a sincere gift and leave the receiver none the wiser. Karkat knew, however, being the only exception.

Akuben speculated that perhaps he enjoyed having a handmade sweater. Or, perhaps it was a need filled, like being fed and having the internet paid for.

Perhaps it was high time for Karkat to spend the week with their family on the other side of town. Kankri was almost shit-eatingly calm, but his demeanor contrasted and balanced Karkat. Did they even talk at school? Maybe online?

Speaking of the internet, a ding rang out from another tab on Trollian, and a few lines of purple text made itself known. Akuben crept up behind Karkat after replacing the paper into it's usual spot on the coffee table.

"Who's this?"

"...Gamzee, dad."

After a moment reading the practically uNdUlAtInG text and another of hesitation, he spoke.

"Is he... Is he _special_?"

"I don't know. He's alright, I guess. Don't be such a buttmunch."

"Are you friends?"

Absently, the man's hand began to comb through Karkat's hair, eliciting a shiver and a halfhearted swat away.

"No, but _he_ thinks so. We're doing a project together- Mr. Bastet chose them."

"Chose what?"

" _ **God!**_ Dad, our project partners."

Rolling up his sleeves, Akuben kept the conversation going.

"Well... What's his last name? What's he like?"

"Makara. Gamzee Makara."

"Don't use that tone of voice with me."

"I'm not using a tone!"

Even with tempers being stoked and kept daily, they ultimately enjoyed each other. The conversation continued after the five minute intermission required to prepare some single-serve EasyMac and load up a season of _Will and Grace_.

"So... Charly Makara's son?"

"I have no idea who you're talking about."

"Good. I don't want you going to their house."

Karkat was not yet irritated to the point of possible aggression, but amply annoyed. He continued to listen; Akuben continued to talk.

"Charly was never the best guy."

"Is that seriously it?"

The strife hung thick in the air; no delightfully artificial "cheese" could mask it.

"Either he's got a little FAS, ADHD, or a problem with substances as a ten year old. I'm just saying that he wasn't necessarily born like that, b-"

"Dad."

"Hm?"

"Stop."

There was no response to be had as another quickly creeping tide of migraine slunk into the forefront of the adult's mind.

"He's really smart, okay? He won't shut up already, but we'll probably get an A on this project."

"Karkat, please don't mumble. What was that?"

"Nothing."


	2. Sanguine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aradia Megido was always pretty cheerful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will include a little bit of following Aradia around, diverging from her mother. This is intended for the parents, but a little pale-developing-flushed Solradia never hurt anyone.

The grass looked was plastic as the pastel color palette of eggs strewn this way and that over the grass and the flowers. A tiny tot wanders headlong into a tuft of dandelions.

Carnia smiled to herself, her toddler was doing just fine.

Aradia stood, bending at the waist to claim a pretty, pearlescent ellipsoid along with the others in the basket she had received that morning. The back of her skirt rose and revealed a fair tuft of tulle and a glimpse at her "Doc McScrachins" panties. Ribbons were tied in her hair with long ends that fluttered with the rest of the rich, brown strands.

Pushing strands of her growing, growing bob behind her ear, she began to tread quietly behind Aradia and quietly think of what her little girl must have been seeing. She, herself, was there, but looking high above the action. Kids never ceased to amaze her.

... which was why she took a job with Social Services. As well as it being a prime opportunity to get over Kornel's swift departure from her life after announcing her pregnancy), she loved working the call desk, actually loved it, but refused to go to their Easter egg hunt. Knowing who was going to be there and why took the safety out of it. Nitram didn't care, he still took his kid. He wasn't so bad, but he was far too nice for his own good sometimes. They ate lunch together some days. That is how she ended up at the Christian Church of Sacred Blood, getting plastered with pamphlets and Sideways Glances of Divine Disapproval.

Even from the kid who may have just buried his shirt's collar with his neck fat. That was mean; it should sadden her, he couldn't have been more than four years old. His father was healthy enough, with the mustache wax to prove it. He _seemed_ to be the most sensible of the lot, being the only one not trying to tell her of His miracles. It got old; boy, _did it **get old**_.

The same with being asked if she spoke English. She was second generation, her name was English (Actually, it was incorrect. Her parents had meant to name her Carnelia/Cornelia, or perhaps even Carmen. Either the nurse or themselves got it wrong, but it was still a legitimate English name according to Google.), why couldn't they just shut up and let her be?

Aradia still ran around, managing to keep her eggs in her basket, unaware to the adult world flying above her head. Carnia focused on her pursuit.

The insects had been (hopefully) scared off by the squeals, squalls, and cries of the scene, the flowers bobbed happily unencumbered by bumblebee butts. When her basket was full, Hamaal led her to the side, apart from where a few soccer moms were holding their babies while their other spawn were where the big kids hunted (Aradia and Doughball were in a section specifically for the little ones). She fingered through her eggs and opened a few, before reassembling them and plopping them unceremoniously back into the basket.

"The jellies are my favorite, Mommy."

She had come upon the statement with a tone of seriousness unlike a dolled-up little girl.

"The what?"

"The jelly beans."

Her delicately pained fingernail pushed around a small selection of the bright, bent shapes protected from the world by their pretty-in-pink semicircle. She stuck one in her mouth before snapping the top back onto it.

"Why?"

"I just like them."

The conversation ended smartly, and Aradia was content in savoring her candies. Another girl in a chevron-explosion printed dress was sorting hers, her mother propped tastefully over a stone bench with crossed legs that went on forever until finally coming to a conclusion at her equally elegant, jade pump.

Quiet pangs of jealousy hurt no man.

On the way to the car, Mustache was seen loading Doughball into a child seat in a Mustang- which was a wonder given that he didn't need a forklift to pick up the kid. Which was all fine, of course, but what on earth did the pastor drive?

Still, Aradia looked awfully cute buckled into her carseat in the modest, but dutiful Honda. Her fluffy skirt nearly buried her, but she was happy.

With her phone in hand, the hour had come for a new lock screen.

♈♈♈

The new outfit had been laid out for the past week, the backpack packed and stowed with all of the supplies on the list. Aradia's thick hair was brushed and washed fresh, held out of the way as she ate her first breakfast as a student. Thirteen years, in theory, more were to come. Of course, this was the first day.

On came the outfit, red butterfly barrettes pinned stylishly in her healthy locks- not like Aradia really cared. Her only true preference was skirts, and this was easy to accommodate. She sat in the same car seat that carried her from that Easter egg hunt that seemed to be but only yesterday, although it had been two years. Flowers and dutiful, however comical, bumblebees on the upholstery shown through a window left by where her skirts were accidentally gathered to her knees. Carnia tugged it back down to her ankles and shut the car door with a smile before climbing into the drivers seat.

She knew the way to the school from her years at Social Services as well as registration. The radio calmed her with Leona Lewis, even though what she was doing had nothing to do with matters of romance. Aradia shared her contentment, kicking her feet absently.

When they pulled into the parking lot, the other parents picking their children out of backseats and leading them cautiously across the pavement. They all hid their fear well, as would Carnia. It was kindergarten, nothing at all to be afraid of.

And so, she unloaded her little girl, and held her hand with a freshly perspiring palm all the way across, and through the halls and the windows to the classroom she had slipped inside upon registering her. Plenty of other children littered the floor, playing with one another in harmony for the time being. Of course, as Aradia slipped away to play with two boys and their legos, the harmony was broken in the three with the cars. One of the boys started a "gimme this" war with another beside him with glasses. The third began to yell at them, perhaps trying to break things up with what sounded like shrieking. The teacher intercepted this and restored balance; the parents had been conversing against the cubbies to Shaula Serket.

Wow, she was here. Small world.

Carnia holed herself up near the electric pencil sharpener and a unpolished woman who was hell-bent on scratching at the sides of a thick Ticonderoga pencil.

She was proud by the end of the day, Aradia knew her numbers exceptionally well and wrote the numerals out on her coloring sheet while the other kids didn't even make the connection of the two apples to "One, two, three, four...".

Her and the other parents shared a mutual policy of avoidance with the exception of Eli Nitram.

Eli was possibly the kindest man she had ever met, as well as the best single father she could imagine. Piades, who was a mutual friend of hers, was his wife, and she passed on when his first son was about eight, the second one was two. It was hard, but Eli pulled it off. It almost enticed some jealousy in her to rise, except when she though of their positions at work. She was the front desk secretary, he was something-important-or-another that she couldn't quite remember the title of in the office. She could, however, recall that it sounded important, as do most things when worded correctly.

Before they were set to leave that afternoon, they had playtime for the kids to continue meeting each other. Sitting back on a park bench with a vaguely familiar mustachioed gentleman and another almost recognizable image of the adult meaning of fabulous (Carnia's signature dress garb contained a decent skirt or something from the Dress Barn on Main Street and flats), she watched Aradia play along with the kid in glasses from the morning squabble (the first of many to follow, as she learned).

Tracing her eyes upward, she found a buff man with tinted glasses also watching the pair of them; it was either the boy's parent or a pedophile, she reasoned.

The pattern of watching and evading continued until three, when a group of parents took their leads and left. Only about three kids were left, all of them doing things absolutely independently to the others. Splitting the few friends apart, she met eyes with the man.

"Heh... Heh, they really hit if off, didn't they?"

She almost didn't realize he had spoken until his... wait a minute. His eyes were two different colors through the shades!

"Yes, they did..."

"Should we organize a playdate or something? I was never the best at these kinds of proposals..."

"Perhaps later, Aradia and I are booked up for the next month or so."

"Yeah. Sounds good-"

"Carnia."

"Eh?"

"M-My name is Carnia... Megido."

"Well, my name is Alhena Captor. Nice meeting you..."

"Yeah..."

And, they each left with their respective child still firmly (but not too firmly) tethered to their arm. Aradia skipped along, satisfied with the day, and Carnia quickened her pace to allow for it. She loaded Aradia back into that adorable car seat and allowed her nerves to quell in her newfound "I'm the awesome mom" swagger step.

♈♈♈

"Okay, write me if you want to, I put envelopes and things in your bag-"

"Yeah, Mom. It's only for like, two weeks."

"Still, you can write me."

A drawn out forehead kiss began the steady, painful removal of Aradia from Carnia- even if it was only for two weeks. Investing so much in a kid... and now it's her first adventure alone. All of her bags and everything she may or may not need was stowed away into the luggage trailer, and her little camper stood waiting to load the bus in her airy white skirt, sandals, a tank top, and a zip up hoodie. Carnia nearly begged to brush the thick hair up against her shoulders, and was granted consent without resistance. Even though she was the adult, she thought it was only nice to ask. Aradia could take care of herself; she was ten.

On the bus flew everything she had hoped for, and pride filled her bosom as the yellow catastrophe rumbled into the distance. The day was balmy and wouldn't be too obtrusive for a first day at camp. She drove off still glad, but managed to call after Aradia four times to warrant no response in the house they shared.

A few days later at the camp, Aradia noticed a boy from her school and sat beside him during a meal. She had made new friends at the camp, but their table was full. They all tittered to themselves about one of the male counselors- Rufioh, of course. Talking about him was boring; Aradia had known him for as long as she knew Tavros, but not too closely. Tav was kinda whiny, even as much as she enjoyed playing fiduspawn with him. He just got old sometimes, but they would always be friends. There wasn't a reason not to be.

This boy, however, wasn't Tavros, although he was indeed at the camp. He had glasses and a resting face that involved absently biting his lip very lightly, as if his teeth couldn't fit comfortably in his mouth. Was his name... Pollux? Something like that?

They had hit it off over "Can you pass the chicken?" at their family-style meal presentation. She noticed immediately he was slightly hard to understand, but once you expected every "s" to come out a touch... wrong, he wasn't so impossible. Over the next few days, she found him following her and vice versa, and them playing games together. His name was Sollux, and he liked computers. video games, insects (although he _said_ he was growing out of it), and fractions. The rest of the kids were playing games, but the sound was a unrecognizable as Japanese and falling as a dull roar to her ears. Sollux looked down, fidgeting with his hands for a second before letting them rest on the bench that held them.

"Yeah, it'th really thtupid, ithn't it?"

"No, it's okay. Just not everyone likes it- someone had to have liked it for us to learn it in school."

"I gueth."

"It's special."

Each of them thought hard about lifing off of the splintering picnic table and taking the other's hand, until they both decided to play foursquare and the sweltering day continued on.

Sollux was gone at dinner, even when Aradia went to the bathroom and looked around at every table for him.

That night, just before campfire, he found her and sat right beside her as the staff told a story.

"Hey, Aradia."

"Hey, where were you at dinner? I missed you."

"W- Really?"

"Yeah."

Keeping their voices hardly above breathing, they continued. She looked up, and saw his glasses reflecting back at her.

"Oh... Wow."

"... Where were you anyway?"

"My brother had to go home-"

"You had a brother?"

His mouth stretched at the corners and his brow furrowed; with nothing to do with his hands, he set to rubbing warmth into his forearms. It was a touchy subject, and she knew by the way he cleared his throat.

"Yeah... Mituna."

"Is he younger? I thought we were the youngest age-"

"He'th older."

"Uh... I don't get it?"

"I don't want you to. He alwayth thcareth everyone away- or I'm just hith brother. I don't want you to feel thorry for me."

"Why would I?"

Aradia watched as he pulled his hands through his hair and rubbed his face- he knew he'd have to tell her all about it. Not like he didn't know all the terminology, and what every doctor says, but knowing and saying weren't the same thing. He would know especially- half of what Mituna said was illegible. It didn't use to be.

"He got really hurt. Thomething with a nailgun... It hit him in the head. They thaved hith life, but he'th really, really meththed up. Like, he wath crying like a baby for Dad, and he can't... He uthed to be my big brother, and he taught me how to ride a bike and do fractionth, and how to win at video gameth. Now, now he'th gone. Dad just keepth driving him to hith appointment and Dad keepth thitting at the table with the billth an'... An' I can't win anymore. We can't afford thith and that and everything... I feel bad for having fun."

Aradia opened her mouth to reply, but he kept going.

"I wanna run away thometimeth, but Mituna would freak out the minute I did and I wouldn't get far. He thilll thinkth he'th thuppothed to protect me; he can't. It reakky killed him thith year becauth all of hith old friendth avoided him. They don't wanna feel that uncomfortable. But, I can't avoid him."

♈♈♈

"Hey."

"Hey."

Aradia zipped up her jacket as Sollux leaned his bike against the tree in her backyard. Today was "hanging out", as the bigger kids called it, disguised as working together on a school project. Yes, they actually had a project, but Sollux had already finished the powerpoint on his own.

"Aren't you cold?"

"Yeth, but it'th not tho bad."

"Let's go inside."

He had ridden to her house in a thin jacket; Mituna must have been wearing the good one. Really, he was riding Mituna's old bike that he fixed up alongside Cronus. He used to love it. With Latula Pyrope, he'll still skate, but he just didn't have the fine motor coordination to deal with pedaling and steering. It was sad, but now Sollux had a respectable bike. Aradia knew because he had told her- he was pretty talkative when he trusted you to know about whatever he wanted to say.

They both trodded into the back door and shed their shoes before Aradia sat in front of the space heater they had put in use for the winter drafts.

"Wow, that thing lookth ancient."

"1970s, so not too old. It works really well."

She led his hands in front of it, but at a good distance, to warm his fingers accessorized by cyanotic nail beds. There they sat together until Aradia remembered the television special on the Sicilian mummies she had invited him to watch and pulled them both to the couch. After they were both snuggled into throw blankets, their sock feet tangled together, Carnia came back home.

Taking off her scarf in the mirror, she noticed how her crows feet were forming around her eyes (that she truthfully loved the rich brownness of), and how her hair was not so thick as it always was, albeit still retaining it's bouncing curl. The space heater was still plugged in, and a mysteriously dreadful feeling enticed her to unplug it from the wall. After putting the spaghetti on for Aradia and her little friend, she poked her head into the doorway of the living room.

There they sat bundled up; Aradia was intensely interested in the dried corpses, and Sollux was staring blankly in an attempt to not be alarmed at the gaping and hollowed faces staring into the cameras.

"Sollux, should I call and tell your dad you're staying for dinner, or does he know?"

"Uh, call him anyway, thankth Mth. Megido."

"You're welcome."

A phone call and half an hour of remaining program left, they all sat around the small dining table in the kitchen in the company of some spaghetti and milk.

"Thankth for the meal Mth. Megido."

"Thank you for coming over. It's nice to have company."

Carnia turned her attention to the shelves behind Sollux that needed dusting, ignoring an electronic buzz that sounded quietly over the tinking of forks against plates. She really should get to that sometime. After she finished ahead of the two kids, she set to tidying it while she had it on her mind. Aradia kept chattering about her newfound trivia of archaeological finds and historical nuances as the buzzing became more and more frequent. Almost on queue, Aradia asked the question Carnia wanted the answer to.

"Who's that?"

"Vrithka."

"Um, why?"

"I don't know, okay?"

"No need to snap... I just wanted to know."

They both finished their spaghetti and every drop of milk before scampering off to the History Channel again- there was now a program starting on Zoroaster.

Clearing the table, Carnia set to her thoughts and plans for her evening that may or may not involve a borrowed romance novel and the wrapped chocolate bar stowed cleverly in the coffee grounds. Aradia was notorious for unearthing "artifacts" of sweets Carnia would have liked to share between them. Before long, it was dark outside, and the two were still mindlessly entertained. Sighing, Carnia looked outside to make sure the lights were still on at the Captor residence, and with relief, they were. His house wasn't far off, across the street and two doors down, easily taken by bike, and easier by automobile.

"Sollux, your father should be expecting you home now."

"Oh, right."

"I can drive you if you want-"

"No, it'th fine, I'll ride over."

"Okay..."

She sat down where he was, confident in his way back home. If nothing else- here was the thing that unsettled her- she would hear the screech of the brakes. Maybe not. Eli never did.

That night, she was torn from her sleep by some infernal ringing, and sat up abruptly. No words escaped her lips, even though her first thought was an expletive (the very second being Aradia). She fell unconscious as carbon monoxide delivered it's warm, strangling embrace and the darkness slipped into the room. The lights outside didn't disturb her slumber- nor did anything else after the deed had been done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is slightly unclear, more shall be revealed. In more chapters. They all weave together in the end.
> 
> Carnia is an old English name (if my memory serves for it's etymology) meaning "horn of an animal" or something similar and also horn related. It was either that or Hamaal, from the star Hamal in the ram constellation. I'm trying to keep the six letter pattern.


	3. Courageous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavros wasn't stupid, he just enjoyed believing in the grandiose picture rather than the incessant, nagging lines. The trees spoiled the forest.

Rolling up the windows and turning off the quiet radio, Elides Nitram got out of the car and began to tread the sidewalk in front of the daycare. Flowers had dropped their costumed heads and gave way to the vibrant greens. It was warm outside, but the car shouldn't heat up too badly as per the thoughts running through Eli's head.

Parenthood is a state of mind, he thought, and one of the hardest and most specific jobs that can be done. All the way, he wished Piades could have been here to help, to make the job that much easier... but Eli knew that she left because she had to, not by her choice. And, on days like this, he had confidence that he was doing a good enough job on his own.

Nevermind it. He walked into the smudged doors and went through the itinerary of the evening in his head one last time before his downy (if down could be a rich brown color, th term seemed unfairly applied to thin, soft  _blonde_ hair) haired boy racing towards him across the green tiled floor. All of this while the little guy in front of him smiled as wide as he could.

"Daddy!"

Eli picked Tavros up under the armpits and felt warm, vaguely sticky hands wrap around his shoulders and neck in a very eager hug. One of the workers handed over Tav's small backpack of homework, his blanket, and some extra clothes. Bouncing the small boy, he readjusted his arm securely under Tavros as he slung the little backpack over the other shoulder. Tavros waved at the girl waiting to sign kids out at the front, and Eli smiled at her. Upon exiting the glass doors, Tavros began to titter about a butterfly.

"Look, Daddy!"

"I see it. It's very pretty."

"Where are we goin'?"

"To go pick up Rufioh from school- stop squirming, please-"

"RUFIOOOOH!"

When Rufioh opened the door once the car came to a full stop, Tavros repeated this jubilant squeal. Eli's eldest clambered into the car, laying his own, bigger backpack on the floorboards between his feet.

"Hey, Tavros. Dad, can you drive off maybe a little faster?"

"Oh, anything bothering you?"

"This girl likes me, I think."

"That's very nice-"

"No, I don't like it. Girls are weird."

"No, they're not, Rufioh. They're just girls. They're all very nice, I'm sure."

Eli steadily turned out of the elementary school parking lot as Rufioh continued his lament. Eventually, the rant on cooties tapered off as Rufioh tickled his little sibling. Really, if he was to be a single father, he was glad it was to these two knuckleheads. At the end of the day (for the time being), they didn't hate each other, and that was a blessing.

"Be gentle, now."

"I am, Dad!"

"Okay."

He opened the garage and parked inside, careful to avoid anything on the floor, and came to a complete stop before letting both of his sons out- he had the child lock on. With Rufioh already pining to get inside the house at the door that connected to the garage, he unlocked it and carried his youngest inside. The pristine tiling of the floors greeted him, as well as the new (non-slip) doormat he'd picked up recently. Putting the child he held down, he hung the small backpack against Rufioh's by the door before peering into the fridge for dinner.

"Rufioh, Tavros, do chicken nuggets sound good for dinner?"

Ad libbed cheers were his reply, and so he brought the frozen bag out and popped some on a cookie sheet. While they cooked, the man hunted around for something vaguely healthful as a side, and came across applesauce and some old cocktail sauce. Unless he liked the picture of a four year old possibly smelling like a questionable buffet for a week, they would be having applesauce. He took out the tray of dinosaur themed chicken nuggets and divided them, set the table with the applesauce, kool aid, and chocolate pudding dessert (covered in cellophane to avoid a sneaky tasting; he knew Rufioh well).

If he'd thought about it, he might have called Aurthour for one of his recipes- they tend to be pretty minimalist. Authour was one of the few parents who were as obsessed as he himself was, but not quite a monster parent. Elides knew Aurthour was likely above him in his insistence of organic vegetarian food for his boys; even on the two nights a week they did eat chicken, it was non GMO, antibiotic free, cage free, and completely virgin of any faint whispers of BPA. Which is precisely why Eli did not understand how Tavros can struggle to put on weight eating what's on sale at Walmart, but the Zahhak boys (Equius especially) can be dripping in fat.

 _ESPECIALLY_ Equius. Eli held a silent suspicion that there was either an underlying thyroid problem or a severe binge eating disorder (when out of the watchful eyes of his father) going on with the youngest.

He still watched his two boys eat over the edge of the newspaper before him and smiled; he truly loved having them around.

♉♉♉

"Are we there yet?"

"No, you know the way to the school, but we aren't far."

"Eeeee!"

Eli left Rufioh with the daycare you usually sent Tavros to- although, now that the little guy will be staring school, he made a mental note to pick up all of Tav's files/things/etc. from the daycare. Tvaros couldn't have been more exited; he could hardly sit still all morning. Eli was optimistic as well about the day ahead.

Tavros wasn't the best (or the worst) at making friends, but Eli still looked forward to friends being made. Sure, there were a few kids from daycare who were "friends", but most of them were going to an elementary school across town. As he got closer and closer to the school, he began to let his gaze flit into the other vehicles, looking for an equally excited future classmate. He managed to recognize Carnia Megido's car, they were both coworkers at the department. Her little girl was the same age as Tavros.

After turning into the parking lot, he looked back at the beaming child in his backseat and smiled. Really, Eli was excited for his youngest growing up, until he realized how diverse his new environment would be. Imagine that, a social services worker squeamish about the kids having a hard time with his boy. It wasn't so much the kids, he justified, it was what they had faced- more specifically, how it would make them act. Kids could be so mean.

Still, Eli loaded his kid out of the car and led him across the parking lot into the school. The air conditioning knocked back the soft brown hair on both of them when they opened the door, and Eli was glad he brought Tavros' jacket along, just in case. The halls were freshly cleaned for the schoolyear- God know they wouldn't stay that way, and perhaps for the best. The soot and the stickiness might reduce the chance of- No.

It was time to stop hover-parenting. He knew Tavros had to be a kid, even if he was younger (and admittedly more timid) than Rufioh, but this made it that much harder. He wasn't like Rufioh. Who knows what could happen?

The room was full of children. Two boys were playing with cars, two girls were playing with super hero action figures, but the Megidos weren't anywhere to be found. He let Tavros wander away and sat himself near the parked television cart to keep an eye on his boy. Tavros was almost confused, but ended up walking towards a ragtag looking kid with wild, curly hair. The other kid seemed pleasant enough, and the two set to playing together. No matter how hard he attempted to listen, Eli couldn't understand what they were saying.

Overall, Tavros has a blast. The teacher stuck him as a very kind, thoughtful person, and Tavros liked her immediately. The coloring was fun, and he got to hang around with his new friend.

Unfortunately, Eli met eyes with the boy's father, and immediately regretted Tavros' choice. The man had equally unruly hair combed back, and scruffy facial hair along with the cold gray-blue haze of his eyes. In whole, his son looked less like him, having simple brown eyes and a softer face, but they looked similar enough to guess some filial relation. Moreso than the muscular, proper gentleman with his mustache and small cattle he was leading- that wasn't very kind of him to think- but the point remained.

Later on, Elides had a chat with Carnia Megido and saw her little girl, who was playing with a boy with glasses. Carnia and he had a mutual appreciation of each other stemming from their work relationship- he liked to believe. He _was_ in a higher position than her, not by pure choice, and feared resentment from everyone else below him. It was just part of being the type of overly concerned person that Eli was, he told himself, but it never ceased to stop worrying him. He still favored her when he had a question; she was extremely competent and would tell him what he needed to know without becoming too irritated at the request. Some of the other front desk ladies weren't nearly as helpful.

At recess, while the two boys were playing, he looked for the other boy's father to schedule a play date (to hopefully settle his concerns founded on something as silly as appearances). But, the other man was nowhere to be found, and it was getting to be time to pick up Rufioh. They had plans to eat out for once tonight to celebrate, and Eli didn't want Rufioh to think for a second that he'd been forgotten. So, he led Tavros away, feeling out the look that the other boy was giving his back. Tavros thought nothing of it, swinging his arm happily and nearly yanking Elides downward.

"I like my school!"

"That's good. What was your little friend's name?"

"Gamzee!"

"Huh. Do you know his last name, too."

"Yeah, it's Makara. Are we still gonna go out to eat tonight?"

"Yes, we are. We have to go pick up Rufioh, first."

♉♉♉

Tavros talked excitedly about his new friend for the solid month after meeting him- he certainly held Gamzee in high regards. Eli reasoned that the boy couldn't be as intimidating as his old man was, and didn't question their companionship further.

♉♉♉

He certainly didn't question it a few years later when Tavros asked to have his friend stay the night. They were both nine years old or so, and sleepovers were coming into vogue with their peer group. It was what kids did.

Eli was much happier with having a friend over than the other way around, he was afraid he'd worry himself sick over Tavros being gone. More than he worried with Rufioh's past adventures, especially so because he still didn't know where Gamzee lived. He rode the bus home with Tavros, and Eli greeted them both at the door.

It had been a long time, in terms of children, since Eli and Gamzee had seen each other after the boys' first grade recital. The first thing Eli noticed was how thin Gamzee was getting, without growing remarkably. The curly haired boy was never very large about the waist, but now he looked almost sickly. His hair was very messy and tangled, and his face wasn't as rosy as Tavros' cheeks were. He noticed these not because he was staring, but because these were particularly alarming as a former field social worker.

"Hello, boys, I put a snack on the counter if you'd like it- Gamzee, you can put your things beside Tavros's, I'm sure he'll show you where."

The father followed the two in to resume dinner preparations as they hung up their backpacks. Then, he watched from the stove by peeking around a dividing wall behind them as they both laid on the carpet watching whatever cartoons were on, or had Tavros put in a movie? No, it didn't sound like _Peter Pan_.

Dinner was pleasant enough between the five of them- Rufioh was home. He had made Kraft macaroni, green beans, and breaded chicken breasts that were now being happily devoured. Involuntarily, he began to watch Gamzee in particular to see to it that he finished the meal. He did, of course, but Elides felt a certain pity for the kid- he truly believed something had to be up. Although it was grounds to alert Social Services, putting kids in the system isn't always the best thing to do. Even scheduling visits with a social worker can be stressful, or even damaging. Besides, there wasn't a funny smell about him, and perhaps he was just going through a weird, skinny growth phase.

He divvied up seconds a touch unfairly, but made it a point to talk to Rufioh sometime that night. His oldest didn't mention being shorted few beans, or maybe he didn't even notice.

All had gone well, both of them showered and off to sleep in the living room by midnight, and Rufioh sequestered in front of the only computer they had (an old, cream colored Microsoft). So, Elides sat at the kitchen table and began reading the book he'd started, something fantasy he'd found at a flea market. Before he knew it, he was at page 336, and it was nearly three in the morning. It was fine, Eli didn't have to come in to work tomorrow, but it was still late. Instinct pulled him to take a final look through of the house. Rufioh was asleep at the keyboard, likely to wake up in less than an hour and head off, Tavros was sound asleep holding his stuffed cow plush-

His friend was staring at the wall over Tav's sideways figure blankly. Slipping out of the youth's line of sight, he began to call his attention with an extremely soft whisper.

"Gamzee... Gamzee!"

The young boy "woke" with a flinch, but turned to make eye contact with the man.

"Whut?"

"Are you alright?"

"Uh... Yeah, sir."

"Did I wake you?"

"No, I won't asleep."

"Come out of bed, I want to talk."

The boy wore a confused expression, but got out of bed and followed just as Eli had asked. Once the man stopped walking, Gam's fingers began to move nervously.

"It's okay, you're not in trouble. But, why aren't you asleep?"

"I up and had a bad dream, but it's okay."

Wow, that was easy. Even through working with children for many years, Eli couldn't recall one trusting him quite so simply so easily. His sensibilities referring to that experience, he knew it wasn't just "okay".

"Would you like to talk about it, or have a glass of water?"

"Yes, please..."

His kids seldom had nightmares past being tots, but he knew it was a recurring issue for a lot of kids, and some adults. From the cabinet, the man pulled a jelly jar glass and filled it halfway with tap water before handing it to the boy around his legs. He walked to the table again and sat down, patting the place across from him. Gamzee sat, sipping at the water.

"Do you want to tell me about the bad dream?"

"I don't know how... There was this cop at the front door, up and yelling at me, an' when he left, people started to try to get in everywhere. Like, I knew everyone, but they wanted to get in the house, up and breaking the windows with stuff..."

"Really? That's-"

"An' I wanted my dad to come make them go away but he wasn't there, an' then I woke up here."

Elides was trying to make sense of this from a child psychology standpoint rather than his immediate inference, but how Gamzee had explained the particularly frightening aspects with a blank face was absolutely unnerving. It meant he was used to them, on top of the already anxiety-provoking deadpan. It was obvious which one was scarier.

"I'm sorry you had a bad dream- Gamzee, could you look up?"

Elides watched as the skinny kid lifted up his head from his feet, showing freshly pinkened cheeks and eyes watering. The adults mind flew to his parents- things like this trigger homesickness, especially at summercamp and other sleep-over situations. He'd seen it all over during his escapades in internship at a camp one summer.

"What's wrong? Do you want to go home?"

"No... I just all up an'-"

He hiccupped, wiping his eyes, and taking another sip of water. Eli was mentally kicking himself for being so hasty with the question, but got up out of his seat. The part of him that still remained a social worker (rather than administration) screamed for him not to touch the boy in the one on one situation- but he reminded himself that he was in his own house, not being sent on a mission by the state. And so, he knelt on one knee beside the chair and hugged the boy into his shoulder, feeling how light the boy was. Gamzee's face was cool to the touch as it brushed against what was exposed of Eli's shoulder.

The man broke the hug, but stayed kneeling, checking over the boy's shoulders and arms for bruises he'd missed before, anything else that wasn't being said.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... Making sure you aren't hurt. I thought I felt you flinch."

"Oh."

They sat in comfortable quiet as the boy finished the water glass, said a quiet thank you, then slunk off to curl up under the blankets again with Tavros without a word.

It was 3:19 in the morning.

Gamzee would definitely be staying over again.

♉♉♉

"Uh, hi!"

"Shut up, babyface. I'm not here to watch _Peter Pan_ again. This is serious."

"What?"

"...Aren't you going to invite me in?"

The brunette girl at the door pushed her glasses back up and crossed her arms in expectation as Tavros meekly moved aside. She had on the outfit she had worn to school that day with the add-on of a jacket and costume pirate hat over a knit cap to face the autumnal chill. Just like that, she had blustered inside, and the kid's boyish heart sang in fulfillment of the puppy crush he may or may not have. She turned as soon as he shut the storm door behind him.

"Tavros, we're going on an adventure."

"Uh, where?"

"Are you _stupid?_ An adventure! I want you to go out to the school crossing sign thing out there, and I'll come after you in a while."

"When, exactly, uh, is a while?"

She was rolling through her speech confidently, overpowering his conscience that knew what she wanted to do.

"Whenever I want! Jesus, you can be suuuuuuuch a bad listener. Now, go get dressed in your Peter Pan bedwetting suit- the high seas are calling!"

He withheld that she had only seen that stain one time, and that it wasn't even his, going forward and changing into the green suit with the hat his dad had made him for last Halloween because the other was too small. He was Peter Pan every year. He walked down the stairs with his fLARP QuickReference guide that had his Boy Skylark stats and attack sequences in it, and then headed out the door with a called goodbye to Rufioh, if he could hear over the massive Naruto marathon he was watching. Tavros headed out of the door and walked down the street, skipping over cracks in the sidewalk, his own 8-bit theme gently plucking on as he walked the block to the school crossing, where there was no-one yet to be seen. He waited there, as if to cross the road, just in time for him to hear the footsteps of Marquise Spinneret Mindfang before she pounced at his shoulders. "There you are! Took you long enough. Let's go- I saw this really cool hunting cabin with no one in it off by the creek-" "That sounds like... uh... what's- oh, yeah- trespassing. That sounds like trespassing." "C'mon! We won't damage anything, and we're just going to go look at it today. Not like we're setting up camp or anything. Don't be a baby about it- Let's go before it's dark!" And, they were off, walking past the railroad tracks, into the other side of town where there were paddocks of impeccably sweet horses and waterfront properties on the welcoming, almost tourist-y side of the area. She led him off, away from the true marshlands, where slow creeks rolled- hunting grounds, definitely. The cabin was a little square thing, complete with a lookout overlooking the lake and the rocky slope down towards the cold water. "Look- and no one's been in it for a while!" "It's cool... yeah, but-" "We can get into it this way!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elides is a mangled version of Pleiades, the name of a star cluster in the Taurus constellation.

**Author's Note:**

> Mr. Vantas is named after the star Acubens in the Cancer constellation. Mr. Makara is named after the Messier 30 star cluster that makes up the tail of the constellation Capricornous, which is named after Charles Messier. Dabihe is from Dabih, also known as beta Capricorni in the same constellation. I will explain more "parent" names later, but please do know that dancestors will not hold much influence in these, although they may be mentioned. I'll let slip one: Kurloz is still with Dabihe, making himself and Gamzee half brothers.


End file.
